


PLAY THE GAME

by egbert



Series: The Erotic Adventures of Vriska and Dave [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:38:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egbert/pseuds/egbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave's pretty sure he smoked a bit too much, but he can't bring himself to care because Vriska's leading him upstairs and away from the pulse of the music and the heat of too many people in the same space. But it's funny because she stops and sways a bit every few steps, makes Dave laugh under his breath, and she pulls his arm a little harder every time he does. He's pretty sure she's drunk (pretty sure meaning positive) and it's kind of hilarious the way she has to hold on to the railing of the stairs to keep herself steady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PLAY THE GAME

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for recreational drug use and drinking.

Everything is fucking hilarious right now.  
  
Dave's pretty sure he smoked a bit too much, but he can't bring himself to care because Vriska's leading him upstairs and away from the pulse of the music and the heat of too many people in the same space. But it's funny because she stops and sways a bit every few steps, makes Dave laugh under his breath, and she pulls his arm a little harder every time he does. He's pretty sure she's drunk (pretty sure meaning _positive_ ) and it's kind of hilarious the way she has to hold on to the railing of the stairs to keep herself steady.  
  
Not to say that he's much better, really.  
  
She guides him into a room, one that Dave recognizes immediately. Not only from the dozen or so posters of Nic Cage on the wall, but because he's been in it so many times to hang out. It's fucking Egbert's room and he's pretty sure he's about to fuck Vriska in it. Normally, he might have a problem with this (maybe) (except not at all) but he's just a little high and Vriska's on her way to being trashed, so there's no way he'd even try to pass up the opportunity.  
  
Dave can still hear the beat of the music downstairs, and when Vriska pushes him down onto John's bed, he can feel it vibrate up into him. Who knew Egbert was even close to being capable of throwing a party? He'd have to convince him to do it more often if John didn't murder him for fucking his moirail or whatever Vriska was.  
  
Except that he's not fucking her, because she's not where he wants her to be. Instead she's standing over him in her dumb fairy dress and heels that make her too tall, but he mostly just wants to bend her over and fuck her in them because they make her legs look amazing. His mind wanders on that thought, trails off, thinks about the best place in the bedroom to do that. It's only when he hears the click of his belt that he finally focuses again, looks down to see Vriska kneeling between his legs and fuck, well, maybe he's just finally fucking died and he's going to cool guy heaven. Because it's fucking Vriska and she isn't making him work for it, she's just fucking _there_.  
  
She glances up at him, hands unsteady from drinking as she unbuckles his belt and tugs open the button on his ridiculous skinny jeans. There's enough awareness left in him that Dave lifts his hips so she can tug them down, letting Dave kick them off the rest of the way, and jesus _fuck_ he's pretty sure she's never looked hotter than she does right now. The moon casts slivers of light across her face, catches her eyes in it, and when her fingers curl around his cock and stroke him once, she wraps her lips around his tip and that looks perfect, too. If his self control was completely nullified, he might have come just from seeing that. But as it is, he just reaches down, rests a hand on the back of her head, trying to keep his hips from jerking up against her mouth from the sensitivity.  
  
"Mouth looks pretty fucking nice around my dick, Serket."  
  
Vriska looks up at him through her eyelashes and she gets that fucking _look_ in her eye, that challenge, and she barely grazes her teeth just under his head. Dave's fingers twitch against her hair, breath catching, and he's not sure if it hurts or just feels that fucking good, because he can feel himself twitch in her hand and he's kind of thankful that his head is swimming from drinking and smoking up.  
  
When she actually pulls her mouth off, does it with a wet _pop_ , his hips roll up against her hand when she does. The air is cold against the tip of his dick and he mostly just wants her mouth on him again. Before he can actually open his mouth and say anything, she's licking up along him from base to tip, tongue rolling over his head. Dave's breath catches in his throat, breath coming out a bit harder now. He can feel himself throbbing, too fucking sensitive and needing more than just this teasing bullshit she's doing to him. But she's licking up along him again right beside where she initially did, and Dave's head lulls back, groaning low in his throat. He's been wanting to fuck her since she put that stupid dress before the party and it hasn't really changed in the last few hours. The only difference is that now he's hard as fuck and he has her on her knees but she's just taking her damn time.  
  
His fingers curl into her hair and he tugs a little, Vriska looking up at him immediately. Dave's voice is rough, strained, and he fucking hates how desperate he sounds. "You know what would be awesome? If you actually had your mouth around my dick again."  
  
"I didn't realize your hormones rivalled that of a fourteen year old teenager." Her tone is lazy, slow, and when she strokes him her hand moves in much the same way. Twisting her wrist on the next upstroke, he hisses out through his teeth, rocking up against her hand. Fucking shameful how much he needs her, but he can tell she's loving every damn minute of it, because she's grinning when she licks over him again. Her head dips back down after, licking over his balls, and Dave wants to curl his fingers into her hair and pull mouth down on his cock.  
  
When Dave does grip her hair, Vriska retaliates immediately, resting her free hand on his thigh and digging her nails in against his skin as hard as she can, and he ends up just tugging on her hair a bit in return. But she's finally stroking him again, twisting her wrist occasionally, pressing her thumb against his tip and rubbing on each upstroke. Dave finally just gives up on staying upright, lays back against the bed. There's part of his mind that makes a note to give John shit later for his choice in ridiculous sheets because they-  
  
" _Fuck-_!" His hand pulls hard at her hair on instinct because Vriska, rather suddenly, decides to stop bullshitting around by taking more than half of his dick into her mouth. He has to close his eyes and think about something that isn't the wet heat around him because otherwise he might just-  
  
Vriska pulls off, licks over his tip, and he groans. Even Dave isn't sure if it's because of the loss of her mouth or the relief that he won't be finishing so soon. But it's fucking hard because he's pretty sure it's been a while since he was this turned on, and being high just makes him feel sensitive everywhere he possibly could be. But he takes that time in between her touches to actually breathe, reign it in, and so when she wraps her lips around him a second time it isn't quite so startling.  
  
In the back of his mind, he knows he'll owe her for this later, but the forefront of everything right now is how his head continues to swim and can only really focus on Vriska and how good it feels to finally have her mouth on him like this. He groans her name, low under his breath, and he finally moves the hand from her hair to rub up along one of her horns.  
  
Vriska stops dead when he does that, pulls off him and shudders, whining in the back of her throat. They're sensitive enough on a normal day, but when she's drunk and most likely contact high, it's ten times as worse. She tries to drawl out the sarcasm when she speaks, but her voice betrays her when it cracks part way through. "If you actually want any dick sucking done tonight, Strider, y-you need to keep your hands to yourself." It takes physical effort not to shove his hand off when he rubs back up along it, his thumb dipping to trace the outline of the crescent. He pulls away after that, however, and Vriska's left squirming between his legs, pressing her thighs together, attempting to catch her breath. If there's one thing she's not sure if she hates or loves about being a troll, it's the sensitivity of her horns.  
  
But with Dave no longer attempting to distract her away from what she had been trying to do in the first place, she licks across his tip and takes him into her mouth again. Every time he reacts, whether it's a hitch of his breath or a moan or his fingers twitching in her hair, she takes another inch of him in until she's able to deep throat him and stay there, sucking firm until he makes this pathetic little sound in his throat. She pulls off after that, sucks his tip, strokes the rest of his dick until he's gasping.  
  
(She'll actually never forget the time he found out, during a conversation, that gag reflexes didn't exist for trolls because of anatomy. Vriska remembers how she got him to fucking _beg_ for it, and she wants to do it again, but- That's for another time when he isn't already spread out under her, acting like some sort of needy whore for her mouth, a fact that turns her on more than she'll ever admit.)  
  
It doesn't take long for his hips to start rolling in tandem with her hand, and she replaces it with her mouth every so often to make him whine for her again. She can feel his hips jerk whenever she takes him deep, Dave groaning from the fucking heat around him, trying not to just give in and start fucking her mouth -- except he's pretty sure she would cut him off from sex for a while; something he's not quite willing to risk just for that.  
  
Especially not now, not when he can feel the bass vibrating up into him with Vriska's mouth on the head of his cock while she twists her hand across him. His breath catches and he can feel his entire body starting to lock up, fingers curling tight into her hair. For a moment, Vriska pulls her mouth away, and he almost wants to hate her for it, except-  
  
Except she's talking and her voice is all hot and needy and Dave wants to pull her up and fuck her, but she's saying something that _isn't that_ , so he fights to focus for-  
  
"Stop thinking about it and come already."  
  
Dave's not sure if maybe he smoked too much or maybe he's just hallucinating but Vriska's mouth is back on him again and before he can really any further than that, he's rolling his hips again. He grips her hair too hard, moans her name too loud, and it's only when the bass really thrums against him that he snaps his hips up against her mouth and finally just lets his orgasm move through him.  
  
His hands shake the entire time, one trembling in her hair while the other hovers over the sheets of the bed, his hips rolling blindly against her hand and waiting mouth. His vision goes white for just a moment and he can't remember an orgasm feeling this fucking amazing before. But she's sucking him through it and when he looks down at her, he's pretty sure he sees her swallow and he almost wishes he had it in him to fuck her senseless right now.  
  
For the time being he's pretty content in just pulling her up to him and letting her straddle his waist and smirk down at him. "I hope you know that you're my bitch for the rest of the night now, _Dave_." And just from the way she says his name, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
###  
  
It takes a week before John speaks to him again after finding Dave and Vriska sprawled out on his bed, mostly naked, both of them sporting a great case of sex hair. John burns his sheets in the back yard; Jade tells Vriska all about it.  
  
Dave regrets nothing.


End file.
